[color=gray][center]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[/center][table][row][/row][row][cell] [img]https://i.imgur.com/QBafbbH.png[/img] [color=7ea7d8][i][b]Location[/b] [color=bdbdbd]⋗[/color] [/i][/color] The Patch. [color=7ea7d8][i][b]Interactions[/b] [color=bdbdbd]⋗[/color] [/i][/color] Zhalia Ramshorn [@Benzaiten], Manon D'aureville [@PatientBean], Scott Wheeler [@Blizz], Phalko Ahn [@CasLink] [color=7ea7d8][i][b]School of Magic[/b] [color=bdbdbd]⋗[/color] [/i][/color] Divination & Illusion [color=7ea7d8][i][b]Items[/b] [color=bdbdbd]⋗[/color] [/i][/color] Suit / Crutches [img]https://i.imgur.com/Hgu7MMB.png[/img][/cell][cell] [right] [color=2c2e2e]_ _[/color] [img]https://i.imgur.com/IOB1yPk.gif[/img] [/right] [/cell][/row][/table][center]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[/center][/color] [indent][indent][indent][indent][indent][indent] [color=dimgray] Fear sunk into his chest. Simon Hart was many things. A gifted hacker, a skilled clairvoyant, and a man who could make a [i]mean[/i] spaghetti. He was [i]not[/i] a fighter. None of his abilities were even [i]useful[/i] in a fight, he knew that better than anyone. The sight of the Shuck fills him to the brim with terror and he draws back a step, watching it with wide, fearful eyes. He needed to [i]go[/i], he needed to get out of here before it had the chance to strike. His suspicions against Zhalia have solidified, become a mass in the back of his mind. She seems unphased by the appearance of the beast, watching it in breathless silence. Of course, her unmoving frame could be a near clone of his own, he's gone so still that he could pass for a thing made of stone but-- [i]Isn't it quite odd that it happened when she was obscuring her feelings?[/i] There's a glimmer of blue and he steps back at it, bringing an arm up to guard his face unthinkingly. It's not until Scott speaks that he realizes there's a barrier between their group and the beast. His stomach drops all the same and he swallows down the bile rising up his throat. "[color=7ea7d8]I can't fight that thing,[/color]" he says this clearly. His voice does not reflect the way that his heart is slamming in the back of his throat. "[color=7ea7d8]I [i]don't[/i] fight. My magic is no good for fighting.[/color]" And it's right about now that he wishes he could cloak himself out of sight. He doesn't but he can't help [i]wanting[/i] to. A part of him wants to try to look further into Zhalia, to try to understand the recognition on her face at the sight of the monster that stands beyond them. He wants to press for more context. He's not certain he has the focus to do so but it presses at the back of his mind, begging for his attention. "[color=7ea7d8]I can try to cloak the group, I'm not entirely certain how well it'll hold but I can [i]try[/i].[/color]" He had not ever had a reason to use his cloaking on any entity larger than himself, he doubted he'd be successful in doing so but that didn't mean he was unwilling to give it a shot. Simon Hart was selfish by nature, but he was... [i]realistic[/i]. He understood that the greater group meant more than a single person. As much as he despised it. [/color] [/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent]